


Devil May

by Fanfic_is_a_sin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blood, Don't expect IC, Don't expect continuation, I'm a fake fan making fake fic, Just go into this with no expectations, Monster Hunter AU, Oh yeah it's gonna be like that, Usual caveats apply, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2018-12-29 17:42:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12090087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanfic_is_a_sin/pseuds/Fanfic_is_a_sin
Summary: Shiro never had a reason. Keith never had a choice. Lance never had a clue.One mistake in Arizona throws all three of them into a desperate fight against the forces of evil(?)They'll each have to find what they've never had to get out of this.Meanwhile, recently-fired Professor Coran sets out to prove that the supernatural exists, with the exasperated daughter of his late research partner and a pair of questionably recruited students. Antics arise, ensue, and may be overcome.Sooner or later they all run into each other, because deserts are smaller in stories and destiny might have plans for the worst collection of potentially OOC characters this side of overused AU settings.





	1. Chapter 1

Shiro dreamed so often about it happening in the snow. Tracks of darkening blood sunk hard into the slick surface of some cold mountain's coat, marking a path to whatever they left behind. He woke up smelling the damp rot some nights, or hearing the cracks of static in the police radio between the report of an animal attack. He could trick himself into remembering it. It was too familiar. Familiar enough that it felt inevitable. That's how this happened. That's how he ended up bleeding out against the warped linoleum of an abandoned gas station in the middle of Arizona, reaching out for help that wouldn't come with a hand that wasn't there.

It was coming. He could feel the vibrations in the floor every time it crashed against the door. He couldn't hear the impacts or the splintering of the wood through the ringing in his ears, but he knew the door wouldn't hold long. He'd gotten a knife between its ribs, which was more than most people could have done in his situation, but they healed quicker than humans and Shiro would be out of blood long before it needed to worry about the damage. His vision was blurry. He fought the urge to close his eyes. It was going to have to kill him, damn it. He would look it in the face when it did. He'd make sure it remembered the look on his.

But god, did he want to close his eyes. Picture the Grand Canyon. Years of traveling, and he never got to see it. That's what he was doing in Arizona in the first place. He was always moving, chasing the latest sightings and bodies. He'd been more places than most people ever would, and all he'd ever gotten to see was interstates. Stopping too long was dangerous, he knew. Monsters didn't just stay put and wait to be found. When you hunted them, they hunted back. But it wasn't snowing in Arizona, and he'd been so sure. Somewhere along the way he started collecting post cards of places that looked nice. Places he couldn't go. After he'd killed the one he tracked here, he'd stopped for coffee and almost bought a Grand Canyon postcard. It was in his hand when he admitted it wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to be there. He wanted the real thing. So, he turned around.

It found him on the long stretch of empty road he took to avoid the main highways. He thought that if he was just smart about it, he could have this one thing. This one, beautiful thing. Now he could see a dusty rack of old Grand Canyon postcards laying on the floor a few feet away, and it felt like an assurance that this was completely his fault. A hollow thud told him the door had broken. The creatures moved too quietly for something their size. Even with his ear pinched against the floor, he could hear or feel it crossing the room. Its shadow fell over him, jagged darkness sweeping away the hazy desert sunset.

He struggled to look up at it. Its fur was dirty and matted with blood. Most of that blood was Shiro's, spread in a chaotic splatter across its chest and arm. Its own darker blood left a trail from the knife in its ribs downward. It regarded him for a moment, curled in the corner and soaked in his own blood. This was why he hated them. If they were just monsters, like the werewolves in stories, it wouldn't be their fault. But he'd seen it before; they knew what they were doing. Their eyes were sharp, and their canine faces betrayed just enough expression to make sure Shiro understood. It wasn't wild. It wasn't hungry. It wasn't angry. It knew what it was doing. It was going to kill him. It was thinking about how to kill him.

At first, he thought it was growling. He'd heard that before, though usually only when they were wounded badly. It looked away from him, and he realized it was something else. An engine. The creatures lips curled back. It looked down at him. It seemed to calculate that he wasn't getting up any time soon, and turned back toward the door. Outside the building, tires screeched. Shiro looked at the creature's back. Now. He could do it. If he could only get up. He lifted his head, tried to push himself off the floor.

But his arm was gone. When his body shook and started to fall, the hand he tried to catch himself with wasn't there. His temple hit the floor harder than it should have for how far he made it off the floor, and his vision threatened to fail. The creature never even looked back. It was smarter than him. They all were. He shouldn't have known better. It padded quietly away as the outline of a person appeared in the crashed-in doorway.

"No," Shiro rasped. It was the first thing he'd said in a while. Talking to the creatures was useless. It made him feel the sand in his throat, and how thirsty he was. "Don't."

It was already too late. Whoever it was wouldn't have time to blink before it killed him. It moved like a candle flickering out, falling on the figure in the doorway with muted, impossible fast footsteps. Shiro's eyes fell shut. A body hit the floor. He forced himself to open his eyes. This was his fault. When he did, he was looking at a dusty pair of boots with stippled stains of dark, familiar blood across their toes. Not understanding, he fought to roll his head enough to look up.

Framed by a messy, hastily-cut mullet, an unfamiliar face frowned down at him. The man held Shiro's knife, the one he'd buried in the creature, in one hand and another, much larger knife in the other. Both were coated in sticky, fur-flecked blood.

"You're still alive," the man said bluntly.

Shiro tried to nod. His eyes slid shut again with the effort.

"Shit," he heard, before he blacked out completely.

 


	2. Chapter 2

A parched stretch of desert away, the lone road into the least beautiful part of the state carried a rickety RV through a bed of dust that led nowhere. In places, enough sand invaded the pavement that the driver had to swerve toward the left side of his mustache to avoid plowing through a dune's formative years. Every time he did this, his three passengers coordinated a series of different complaints, hoping that at least one of them could convince him to slow down. It was a good effort, and he did try to let off the gas so that they didn't think he'd missed the work they put in. 

"Wh- ... Professor? Not all this equipment is tied down. You might wanna take it a little easier," came a voice from the back of the camper. That was Hunk. Luckily, he knew which equipment was most in danger. He was a film student, after all, and as long as they had working cameras they could improvise with everything else. There was a twinge of guilt at the word _professor._ But they'd understand, eventually. They'd get a lot more out of this trip than the extra credit and résumé filler he'd promised if they succeeded. And they had to succeed.

Pidge, sitting across from him, took a more nuanced approach. "I'm all for cool moves," she said. "But there's not anywhere in here to throw up without all of us having to smell it." She was the only one here who shared his enthusiasm for the trip. She'd been the one to drag Hunk along, when he'd mentioned that he could really use some help with the filming. She was also the only one who'd taken classes with him. He wasn't sure why. He taught classical history. She was double majoring in computer science and game design, of all things, and that was on top of being the youngest person ever accepted into the university. How she had the time to take some of his courses, he'd never know. What he did know was that he shouldn't be taking her on this trip. Any of them, really, but especially her. But there weren't many options. He'd tried to do it alone, and he just couldn't manage. But they'd only be there for one night. He'd send them back after they'd done all of the setup, and then he'd be on his own.

"Coran," Allura said. She had the passenger side seat in the front, from which she operated at his self-appointed navigator. "You really should be careful. This is a rental."

She was the one he worried about the most. However brief, she would be in danger with the rest of them. But more than that, she would be crushed if she so much as realized the real reason they were out here. The others might be confused. Angry. Scared, if they found out before he could prove that he was telling the truth. But Allura would know. She would understand exactly what drove him. And after she'd tried so hard to get past it, and get him past it, Coran wasn't she'd forgive him, even if things went perfectly. He'd tried to avoid bringing her at all, but she still worried after him like he wasn't-

Coran stopped himself before he thought _her father's age_. "Don't worry," he replied to all of them at once. "I'm a professional!" He kept his tone chipper and gave them his best winning smile. "And it's important not to run over piles of sand like these. Besides the dangers to the vehicle, these little guys can house everything from rare species of desert lizards to snake eggs! Wouldn't want to ruin anyone's day just because we can't see them under the sand."

"They're in the road," Pidge pointed out.

"They don't know that, though," Hunk said.

Allura sighed. "Let's just be careful. We certainly don't want to blow out a tire in this heat."

So they barreled onward, into the sunset. It would've made for a good Indiana Jones joke, if he'd felt up to it. As it was, the best he could do was keep his fingers loose around the wheel and resist the urge to floor it all the way to their destination. It wouldn't be long, now. All of his research had indicated activity not far off the road, just a few hours more in this direction. If he could get them there and get everything set up, he could get through the hardest part. Not the most dangerous, but the one he was most worried about. So far, though, everything looked normal. His anxiety about the trip hadn't manifested into anything tangible. There were feelings, here and there. Of being watched. Of just barely missing something in the brush. But they'd been there for the past year, and he could dismiss them for the most part.

As they came over a slight rise in the height of the road, a small building appeared in the distance. Allura leaned forward. It took her a few seconds of squinting and consulting the pile of printed and store-bought maps in her lap, but she eventually frowned. "That's strange," she said. "None of the maps have a gas station near here. Not even the older ones. I wonder if it's open."

"I don't think so," Coran said quickly. He knew about this particular gas station. It came up in several accounts from years ago. And it was most certainly not open. "But that's why we brought extra gas cans."

Then he saw it. Something unexpected. Not covered in dust, and clearly much newer than everything else in the tiny, run-down lot. Allura saw it to. "That's a new car," she said, leaning forward. "I don't see anyone in it. Maybe they're inside."

Coran shook his head. "It doesn't look like it. They probably just broke down and had to call someone to pick them up." He hoped. he car didn't look damaged enough to have been... attacked. But at the same time...

"The driver's door is open," Allura said. He heard it in his head before she actually said it. He already knew what kind of person she was. And what kind of person he was. "We should pull over and make sure they're alright."

Coran wanted to protest, but that would certainly lead to questions he couldn't answer. He felt the RV slowing down. Apparently, he'd decided she was right. This was a state road, even if it was rarely traveled. Surely, it had to have some traffic. This was probably just an unlucky driver, who was probably already gone. He'd tell the others to stay in the RV, do a quick check inside, and then they'd be on their way. That was it. Nothing at all to worry about.


End file.
